Almost Isn't Good Enough
by demondreaming
Summary: Sam's kissed Freddie. Carly's kissed Freddie. It's almost like they've kissed. It's something for them to think about. Cam pairing, femmeslash. Sounds like it involves Freddie, but it really doesn't.


**Disclaimer: My auto suggest for 'dis' (disclaimer) was 'disappointed', and it seems fitting. I am disappointed that I don't own iCarly. Thankyou auto suggest, for making me realise my devastation.**

**A/N: This is actually my first fic in 2nd person, so... it's new territory. I kind of like it, and I hope you do too.**

"I've been thinking."

You look up from your magazine, Sam's voice cutting through the comfortable silence. She's looking at you, sprawled out on your bed, hands behind her head, and she looks more at home there than you ever could. You smile wryly, "That's not good."

She sits up a little, grinning. "Watch it Shay." She lays back again, staring up at the ceiling. You flick through the magazine absentmindedly, some teen-zine you don't remember buying, and wait for her to continue. "You've kissed Freddie." You look up quickly. Sam's never mentioned... never wanted to talk about when Freddie and you were dating. She just sort of pretended it never happened.

"Yeah..." You say slowly, suspicious. You're not sure where she's going with this, but her tone is hesitant, wondering, and it piques your interest, because Sam is never hesitant, never unsure.

"...And _I've_ kissed Freddie." You wince. It stills feels so weird to think of that, to think that Sam kissed Freddie. You turn to face Sam, putting the magazine down. Despite how uncomfortable you feel, you can't help but wonder where Sam's going with this. She turns on her side to look at you, and you can't help but notice how your bedspread brings out the blue of her eyes, making them seem to glow. You wish you had eyes like hers, instead of the regular brown ones that always stare back at you from the mirror. Sam says she likes them though, says they match your personality, because they're all warm and deep. You always smile like an idiot when she says things like that, because you know she doesn't say things she doesn't mean, not to you. And if that's true, that your eyes match your personality, then Sam's definitely match hers. At first glance they look icy, cold, but once you look deeper, you can see the twinkle in them, the mischief; and when she looks at you - the affection. Her eyes don't look so cold then, they look warm, like a summer sky, and you could watch them all day when they're like that, and never get bored.

"So if you think about it, it's almost like we've kissed."

You snap out of your reverie, Sam's words sinking in. "What?" You shake your head, as if that will help it make more sense. The disturbing part is, you can almost follow her logic. It's true, you've both kissed Freddie... but to draw a conclusion like that? "What do you mean?" You ask, wanting clarification.

Sam rolls onto her back again, shrugging. "Just something to think about, is all."

You chew your bottom lip. You have thought about it. Not about kissing Sam, indirectly or otherwise, but about Freddie kissing Sam. When she told you about it... it was like a physical blow. You were surprised at how upset you were, that they were keeping secrets from you. And you were surprised to find yourself angrier at Freddie. To find yourself thinking he didn't deserve to kiss her. That it must've been nice, because Sam has really pretty lips, all soft and full. To find yourself disappointed in Sam, and you're not really sure why.

You get onto your knees, crawling up onto the bed and clambering over Sam to lay beside her. The more you think about what she said, the more interesting it becomes. What if Freddie had never been your friend? What if it had remained just you and Sam? Or, more interestingly, what if Sam was a boy? You know she'd be your boyfriend. You know without hesitation, and it's odd, because you've never really thought about it, but you know for sure she would be. She's everything you look for in a guy. She's a bad boy, but she's sweet inside, and she'd do anything for you, and you glance over at her, tracing your eyes over her figure. But no, she's definitely a girl. You're actually a little jealous of how very much a girl she is. Curves wise. She has a body to die for, and it's funny, because it's always been Sam who was the tomboy, and yet she's become so much a woman. More than you are. You find a certain irony in that; that she never wanted curves, never wanted that hourglass figure, and yet she got such a perfect form, while you, who obsessed over the size of your breasts, the wideness of your hips, remained relatively undeveloped.

You look at Sam pensively, pursing your lips. "I guess you're right." You let your fingers play in her blonde curls. Another thing you're jealous of. You know Sam secretly likes it when you do that – play with her hair. She lets out a soft sigh, and you know she doesn't even realise she's doing it. She lets her guard down with you, and this is why you put up with her sometimes abrasive personality, because you know this is what she is deep down, and you feel special that she only shows this side of herself to you. It's the part you love the most, the part that took you so long to find, but once you did, you knew you'd always be best friends, because you loved Sam with her guard down, loved how it made you feel important, how it made you feel like you were protecting her for once. It made you feel needed.

Sam turns onto her side slightly, giving you better access to her hair, and you twirl the soft strands between your fingers, looking at the shifting colours within them. "I guess we have almost kissed." You say softly, and you're not really saying it to her, you're saying it to yourself, a little surprised. Surprised that you like the idea.

You can feel Sam's eyes on you, and you can hear her breathing, just a little unevenly. You wonder why she brought it up when it hits you. You've always known Sam was probably gay, or at the very least, bisexual. You don't know how, it just always seemed obvious to you, even though she never said anything. She's never dated a girl, never spoken about wanting to, but you know that Sam doesn't like to take the initiative. She claims that if a guy wants her, he should tell her, but you know it's because she can't handle rejection, can't put herself out there. It's part of why she acts so tough... that maybe if she acts like she doesn't care, she won't.

Sam puts her arm around you tentatively, and you lift your head, letting her slip her arm underneath the back of your neck. You think Sam likes you. As more than a friend. It's little hints here and there, that you keep passing off as friendship, or just Sam being affectionate. You never really gave it much thought. It didn't seem to matter. You didn't care if she was gay, straight or whatever, she was just Sam, and she always acted that way, always stood close to you, touched you. You did the same. But you notice how her breathing changes, how her voice gets just that little bit huskier when you're close to her. You think she likes you. And you wonder... is that a bad thing? If she was a boy, she'd be your boyfriend, so is it so different... her being a girl and being your girlfriend? It's not gender... it's her personality. Would things change all that much? You spend every moment together as it is; you fall asleep watching movies together, ending up sprawled all over each other. You wake up nearly every morning with Sam's arms around your waist, and it never feels wrong. You think about it carefully, letting your hand trail to Sam's stomach as you turn towards her, snuggling your head into her shoulder. It feels natural, like the next step to whatever the two of you are. You realise you're not just friends, that it's always been something more, something deeper, something in between friendship and a relationship, and you'd always been happy with it being there.

Until Sam said what she said, about the both of you kissing Freddie. And somehow, that seems more wrong, elicits a stronger reaction in you than the thought of kissing Sam itself. What would it be like to kiss Sam? You can see it in your head, see yourself moving to kiss her, and it's so powerful you think for a moment you have, that it was real. But no, you're still lying there, feeling her stomach muscles work under your hand as she tries to keep her breath even, tries not to let on to the effect you're having on her. And secretly, you like having this effect on her, like the way she looks at you, like she looks at nobody else. It makes your stomach do flip-flops, because you know Sam doesn't want to show it, doesn't want you to know, but she can't help it. You like that she can't help it.

You think you'd have acted on it sooner, acknowledged it sooner if you weren't a little scared. Scared that things would change, would go wrong and split the two of you apart, and that was the last thing you wanted. You've never really considered it consciously, it's always been something in the back of your mind, something you wanted but were too scared to have. You waited for it to fade, even when you weren't sure what it was, this... infatuation. You didn't want to act on it if it was temporary. And you thought it was, because it did go away. It's only now you realise that you pushed it away, convinced it wasn't real, because it felt too strong, too powerful to last. You never thought of it as a crush, never thought of kissing Sam per say, it was more you felt this.. this thing, a little bit like what you felt for Spencer. You knew it was love, but it was different, stronger... a little scary. You didn't think of touching Sam, although you realise you enjoyed it more than you should have when you did, you just knew you wanted to be with her always, as close as you could be. When you were younger you said the two of you would get married, because you couldn't see yourself loving anyone else that much, and at that time, marriage was the ultimate expression of love to you.

You'd never thought of kissing her, and you start to realise why. You can see it in your head, and it's so appealing, especially when she's here beside you, her arm around you and her scent filling your lungs. You realise why your subconscious never let you think of kissing her, because the thought is overpowering, and almost isn't good enough. You feel your own breath start to grow uneven, and it seems so loud in the quiet room, even though you've got your Pearpod playing soft music in the background. You prop yourself up to look at Sam, your hands still splayed on her stomach, and you can feel something tremble in you, because all you can see now is kissing her, and you really don't know if you should, but you don't think you can help it. And Sam's noticing your eyes flicking between her eyes and her lips, her tongue snaking out nervously to run over them.

"Almost isn't good enough." You find yourself murmuring, and then you're leaning in, unable to stop yourself, unable to get the image of her pink lips, trembling just a little as she starts to realise, out of your head. And when your lips finally, _finally_ touch hers you sigh, because it's everything you never imagined, everything you didn't dare to dream, and you realise your brain was smart to keep the idea from you. The kiss is soft, tentative at first, both you and Sam unsure, hesitant, unwilling to cross some line you know you've already crossed, and are rapidly leaving behind. But it feels good, it feels so good, that you can't help but increase the pressure, keep the kiss going, because it's teasing you, and you want more. And where all your kisses ended, with Freddie, with Griffin, with anyone, you keep going. It's not like a first kiss, it's like something you haven't done for a long time, but that you've never forgotten, and it feels as natural as breathing, but infinitely better. You find yourself moving more on top of her, looking for better leverage, and your lips break apart for a moment, and you can't help but gasp as they come back into contact, Sam leaning up into you, her hands hot on your waist. You're already addicted, addicted to kissing her, it's a taste you can't forget, a sensation you don't want to stop, and where you _should_ be stopping, where you _should_ be stammering and nervous, and wondering what this means for your friendship, you keep going, and Sam seems just as eager to continue. And really, there's nothing to talk about, nothing to say, not when you can feel her heart pounding hard against you, your own heart beating just as fast. It's like she's a flame and you're a candle, and her lips are making you melt, making the hot wax pool inside you and threaten to spill over. And it's you who's running your tongue over Sam's bottom lip, wanting more, you who's tasting her, making her moan into your mouth. It's not really all that surprising; you've always been the one in charge, always been the one who could control Sam, always the one who Sam gave in to.

Eventually, you have to breathe, the increasingly short and shaky breaths insufficient, and when you let out a long breath, it feels like liquid pouring forth, and it's shaky, because your heart is beating so hard it's rattling your lungs. Sam's grinning, trying to put on some bravado, but when she speaks you can hear the tremor in her voice. "So you see what I meant then. About us almost kissing." She takes a shuddery breath and says quickly, "How it wasn't enough."

You raise your eyebrows in mock surprise. "Is that what you meant?" You can almost see Sam falling apart in front of you, and you're amused to find that for once, you're more composed than her. You realise that she's wanted this for a long time, acknowledged it for a much longer period than you have, who took the coward's way out and denied it. She's been living with it, aware of it so much longer than you have, and you find that endearing, because she's emotionally naked before you, and she's not covering herself up, she's letting you see this sincere, ecstatic part of her. She gives a breathy laugh, and you press your lips to hers again. She's been waiting too long, and, as you feel yourself melt into her, you realise you have too.

**A/N: What a rambling thing this became. Please review, or else I will haunt you. Because I'm a ghost now.**

**Woooooo!**

**That was a ghost noise, not a party noise.**

**Okay, it was both. I can't be a party ghost?**

**So if you fear haunting, you should review. Or even if you don't, cause I'll throw rocks at you instead. Ghost rocks.**


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